


A Hazard to Flight

by dlyt



Category: Forever Knight
Genre: Gen, Vampires, the joys of flight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:47:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24005347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dlyt/pseuds/dlyt
Summary: Vampires fly. Most of the time, anyway.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	A Hazard to Flight

Sometimes the vampire flew, just for the sheer joy of it. In the lazy summer heat, riding updrafts and surprising owls, in autumn, joining the leaves fleeing their tethers and flying helter-skelter in the variable winds, in winter, hovering unseen in the midst of lightly falling snow, and in spring, soaring low, seeking the fragrance of the reawakening earth.

It was a particularly fragrant spring, the perfectly timed rains and moderate temperatures producing an unusually beautiful and bountiful number of blossoms. Flying under a shy crescent moon, Lucien LaCroix breathed deeply, buoyed by their fragrance in the night.

The best places for spring flying were always in the suburbs. Armies of landscape architects and lawn maintenance companies kept gardens and parks blooming and aesthetically pleasing to the eye, at least in daylight. As a denizen of the night, however, the vampire paid little attention to the aesthetics. Instead, he followed his nose.

Breathing deeply, he meandered among the flowering trees and hedges. Suddenly, though, he gasped and fell from the sky! Before he could correct his trajectory, a brick chimney intervened and deflected him onto a manicured lawn. Broken bones began to heal and cut flesh began to mend as he tried to stand. Another wave of weakness drove him back to his knees. What was going on here?

Floodlights lit up the yard, spotlighting one very dazed and somewhat injured vampire. A man ventured out, seeking the source of the disruption to his evening, and the two eyed each other warily, neither quite sure what to do or say. Finally, the homeowner asked, “Can I help you?” in a voice that really meant, “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

The vampire drew breath to speak and promptly dropped like a stone, writhing in pain as the very air he inhaled seared his lungs like fire. The man moved hesitantly toward him. What was going on here?

From out of the darkness, two figures swooped down onto the lawn. The homeowner stared in bewilderment as the two, dressed in full-body hazmat suits, complete with sealed hoods, gloves, and boots, and equipped with oxygen tanks and medical bags, approached the downed vampire. After a quick assessment, one of the hooded figures lifted the now unconscious vampire in his arms and flew off in the direction from which he had arrived.

The remaining figure approached the homeowner and asked, “Can I help you?” in a voice that really meant, “Who are you and what are you doing here?” When the man began to protest, the other quieted him with hypnotic ease.

“Why did you come outside?” the hazmat man asked.

The homeowner replied dully, “There was a thump on the outside of the chimney. I came out to investigate.”

“That was quite a large bird you saw, wasn’t it? What kind of bird do you think it was?” The homeowner remained silent. His mouth hung slack and his eyes began to glaze over. “Wouldn’t you like to go back inside and tell your wife about the bird?” The man nodded and moved gingerly back in the direction from which he had arrived.

In a large panel truck parked about a kilometer away, LaCroix regained consciousness and gratefully drank down a sanguinary draught. Still unable to speak, he found himself hustled through a decontaminating shower, where mercifully warm, soapy water neutralized whatever contaminant had disabled him.

Stepping naked from the rinsing station (his clothing was beyond reclaiming), and beginning to recover some of his dignity (he was nearly 2,000 years old, after all!), he took both the towel and sweatsuit offered him, dried himself, and dressed. In a gravelly voice not yet fully healed, he asked, “Who are you and what are you doing here?” in a tone that meant exactly what he said.

“Enforcers,” said one of the previously hazmat suited rescuers as he finished the process of removing the now contaminated gear. “We’re here to protect the community.”

“From what?” LaCroix asked. “What happened to me back there?”

“Garlic,” came the quick response.

“Garlic?”

“Garlic oil and essence of onion. It’s a new trend in organic gardening, and it’s deadly. This guy sprays it on every living thing on his lot, and the fumes have become a flight hazard for the community. It’s so bad, even his neighbors have complained, but there’s no city ordinance forbidding it.”

“So I’m not the first one you’ve had to rescue, then?” The ancient vampire looked approvingly around the efficient decontamination center.

“Oh, no! But you’re the first one that’s still been conscious when we got there.”

“And the mortal? What of him?”

“Oh, we usually just whammy him and send him back inside.” The Enforcer looked both proudly efficient and like an errant school boy for a moment before adding, “We also seeded his sprinkler system with concentrated bleach. We figure he’ll stop the spray in a week or two, and spread the word that the garlic and onion don’t work. We need to nip this trend in the bulb, so to speak.” The older vampire scowled briefly, prompting the Enforcer to ask, “Are you all right, sir?” in a voice that really meant, “How much longer are you going to hang around here?”

“I’m fine,” the ancient said as he straightened his new clothing and ran a hand through his short, cropped hair. “I’m simply not accustomed to Enforcers acting so progressively.” He stepped into some low sandals (what did they call them, slides?) and stepped outside. “Gentlemen,” he nodded to the two, “Good Evening.” And he was gone.

“Well, how do you like that,” the one Enforcer said to the other, “not even a ‘Thank you.’ How rude!” And the other agreed with him, nodding.

* * *

Inside the house the woman waited. When her husband returned, she asked him, “What was it, honey?”

“A bird. A really big bird. Probably one of those turkey buzzards. They can’t see well at night.”

“Well, if they can’t see, why do they fly at night?”

“I don’t know, but that’s the third one this week!”

**Author's Note:**

> Acknowledgements: Thanks to my youngest son for his suggestions, and for inspiring this work to begin with.
> 
> Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. I am using them for fanfiction purposes only. No profit, only fun!
> 
> On a walk through our neighborhood recently, my son and I were driven to cross the street to get away from the overwhelming odor of garlic oil and essence of onion that one of our neighbors is using on his yard for some reason. It was so strong my eyes teared up and my son's asthma was triggered. It could have driven vampires from the skies....


End file.
